


Mischief in the Air

by runawaygypsy



Category: Loki (MCU) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:57:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3704625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawaygypsy/pseuds/runawaygypsy





	Mischief in the Air

Erika stepped into the night air, its early spring crispness nearly biting as she pulled the thin jacket she wore closed, holding it tightly to her bosom and hoping it was enough to cut some of the windchill. The skies were dark gray and heavy, the color of dark seas on the verge of storm, and, if she were to believe the local weather man, a storm was indeed coming. There was a flash on the horizon, followed by a distant rumble, and this provided all the motivation she needed to get home.

Unfortunately, the skies above her burst open, unleashing a heavy, soaking torrent that immediately drenched her before she could even get halfway home. Still, she felt the need to try, brushing the wet hair out of her eyes and trying to keep her glasses as clear as she could all the while hurrying down lonely sidewalks, her heels clicking with wet report. 

She looked to cross the street as she neared her building, first left, then right, all was clear. As she stepped down from the curb, her foot sloshed into an ankle deep puddle filled with thick mud and washed out debris. Cursing her luck she pulled out of the muck, the sick sucking sound of the mud claiming her shoe resonating in her ears. "Fuck!" She yelled as she pulled the other one off and threw it in the pool of filth with its mate. 

With a huff, Erika resigned herself to spending the rest of her short trek barefoot and freezing and in serious need of the bubble bath she promised herself when she got home. 

The rain was obviously not going to let up any time soon and, in fact, the lightening was getting closer by the minute. She counted after the first strike and with each subsequent flash, her one, one thousand, two one thousand, was getting less and less, indicating the heart of the storm was nearly upon her.

In a hurry to avoid what promised to be an even nastier part of the torrent, she cursed her luck abs began to stride across the road. She'd forgotten to look where she was going and and, before she could react, was blinded by headlights and deafened by the blasting horn of a delivery truck. She froze, unable to react, certain she'd be hit. Readying herself for impact, she closed her eyes.

There was nothing. No pain, no vehicle, no more rain. Silence.

Erika opened her eyes, confused, and was greeted by soft candle light. She was lying on a settee and there was a warm, crackling fire in the fireplace next to her. Glancing down, she noticed she was no longer wearing her soaked clothes, but a simple white shift, nearly see-through, secured around her waist by a gold belt. 

As she sat up to take stock of the room, she saw a man standing near a large window, staring out at the plethora of stars that seemed to fill it. He wore a dark green tunic and trousers trimmed in gold. He was also shoeless, she observed taking in the length of his feet with great interest. In his hand, he held a wine glass filled with a deep red liquid, wine she guessed. As she opened her mouth to say something, he turned around. She gasped. His hair was jet black and long, brushing just below his shoulders as it was tucked neatly behind his ears. His features were chiseled, his face graced with high, angular cheekbones, a delicate nose, arched eyebrows. The jewel green eyes he had regarded her with curiosity and she wondered what he knew about her present circumstance.

The man approached her, his gait graceful but with a purpose. She had a feeling he was the only one to know what that purpose was. In a brief flash of fear, she cowered against the arm of the seat she was on, folding in as though she could make herself into a dedicate little package that he would overlook and leave alone alone. It failed to work and he continued to get closer. 

"I suppose you are wondering what happened, " he said as he stopped and knelt down next to her. His velvet voice was smooth, low, calculated. When she nodded, he continued, "You were nearly killed and I saved you."

"How?" she asked timidly. "Why?"

The man chuckled, his eyes glittering as he took her in. His tongue licked at his bottom lip for a brief second and it made him look like a predator, she his prey. "I've been watching you for some time, Midgardian," he answered. "You've piqued my interest with your tribulations and, I have to admit, I'm fascinated with you." He placed his hand on her knee and squeezed gently, his need to touch her oddly reassuring. "My name is Loki."

Erika's initial terror began to melt away. She introduced herself, her voice no more than a whisper, shaky at best, but she stretched out along the settee and relaxed. "How did we get here?" she finally asked.

Loki grinned. "Well, I suppose when you're rescued by a God who has a way with magic, anything's possible," he laughed. 

His name initially failed to register with her and it was only the revelation of his being a god that she recognized him. "Loki, as in God of Mischief, Loki?" She watched him wide-eyed, hoping that he wasn't some kind of psychopath and that she'd been drugged and brought into his delusions. "But, you're a myth."

"Not at all, Darling," he purred. He slid next to her on the settee, his hand migrating from her knee to her hip. "You see, I'm ancient in Midgardian years, but in Asgardian years, not as much. We may hold place in your mythology, but I am every bit as real as you are."

His touch, his voice, the way his eyes swept over her, were intoxicating. The whole atmosphere of the room adding to the heady mixture. Erika felt warm, tingly, like she'd swallowed hot stones that radiated from her core. "What do you intend to do with me?" she wondered. Deep down, she knew what the answer was, that she was his already, that he'd claimed her the moment he saved her.

"That just depends on exactly how far you're willing to go," he replied. With a flick of his wrist, the wine glass disappeared. He didn't toss it, it didn't shatter, it just ceased to be. "I suppose, in a way, you owe me for saving your life." He reached over and grasped her wrists, roughly pulling her to a sitting position before wrapping his arms around her in a constricting embrace and kissing her, his lips slamming into her so hard that she felt bruised.

Erika had always thought that, given a situation like this, she would fight back. But with him, she didn't want to. She accepted the roughness of his demeanor wholeheartedly, even enjoyed the way his lips moved insistently over hers, the way his tongue pried her lips open and demanded entry, dancing with hers more gently than she could have imagined. Closing her eyes, she threw herself into the moment, letting the full effect of his intoxicating kiss wash over her and ignite the hidden parts of her even further. When he released her, she stayed there, whispering, "Please don't let this be a dream."

He cradled her chin for a moment, his lips nipping at her jaw. "This is not a dream," he mumbled against her. She let out a soft moan as he moved to her neck, her hands lifting to grasp his shoulders before tangling in his hair at the back of his neck. Loki leaned away, once again gathering her wrists, but, this time, raising them above her head before binding them. "You will feel the weight of this reality."

She whimpered as, in a flash of golden light, she found herself once again in an unfamiliar place. Gone was the cozy room in which burned the fire, replaced instead by a four poster bed, gold with emerald green velvet coverlet and pillows. Erika was bound here, her hands split between the two top bed posts, her feet pulled apart, spread and held there by two golden cords tied to the lower posts. The white shift she'd been wearing was gone, replaced by filmy black panties, her breasts completely bare, heaving with nervous anticipation. She tried to lift her head up to see where he had gone, but it seemed altogether too heavy for her. Instead, she resigned her self to closing her eyes and listening, waiting for him to make some noise. "Loki?" she whispered after a few seconds. "Where are you?"

Erika jumped as she felt the cool of his fingertip as he traced up the side of her body. "I'm right here," he replied, his voice a soft caress. Without waiting for her to respond, he moved, kneeling on the bed in between her knees. When she began to tremble, he whispered, "Do not be afraid, my pet."

"I'm not afraid," she said, her breath quickening in the anticipation of what was to come next. 

"Good," he purred. His hands grasped at her knees, then slid up the insides of her legs, the shift scooting up with his movement. "These clothes will never do," he chuckled.

Erika opened her eyes when she felt the cool breeze of his breath against her inner thigh. She lifted her head as much as she could and caught his green eyes glimmering with mischief as the shift and its gold belt dissipated, leaving her completely on display for him. Squirming, she let out a mewl of disapproval. "Please," she said, her voice barely audible. 

Loki shook his head, never breaking his eye contact. "That was not the sort of plea I expected," he retorted. "What I do expect is that by the time we are finished, you'll be pleading with me to continue." He winked and the corners of his mouth curled into a knowing smile. As she squirmed, he danced his fingers along her legs, stopping just short of her sex. "I suppose you want me to touch you, make you cum?" He raised his eyebrow at her, knowingly. "I think I will wait a while, just to see how far you'll go for my touch." He flicked his finger and in it appeared a long, black feather, with which he began to run along her flesh, inciting goosebumps to appear in its wake. First repeating the pattern along her legs, then dancing just past her mound, tickling ever so lightly against her folds, then over her belly and maddeningly against her breasts. When she whimpered again, he laughed. "Perhaps its not tenderness that you need, is it, little one?"

She tried to respond, to tell him that she wanted him and only him, but the only words that formed in her mouth escaped as, "Yes, my king."

"Very well then," he responded, his voice dark and thick, his pupils dilated, his eyes hooded. He flicked his fingers again and her restraints disappeared, but, in the same action, he reached around her with one arm and flipped her prone, her face buried in the pillows. "Let's try this then," she heard him say as he pulled her hips up, raising her ass up to him, her knees digging into the mattress. "Now, don't move, or there will be consequences," he growled. 

Erika didn't want to think of what he thought would be consequences. She raised herself up on her elbows, took a deep breath to begin saying something and was caught unaware by the smack of his hand square against her ass. She went face-first back into the pillows, her flesh stinging from impact. She reached back to feel and he slapped her hand away, followed by another, harder smack. 

Loki leaned over her, his hardness fettered by the leather of his breeches, pressed against her. "I told you not to move," he grumbled into her ear. Instead of moving away from her, he leaned into her back, his bare chest and cool skin rubbing on her back. "Now, I expect you to submit to me." His hand grasped her hip for a moment, pulling her even more against him, grinding her against his cock, then slipped to her front, his long fingers tracing her slit, pressing just on the hood of her clit enough to make her moan. He kissed her shoulder, lips soft but firm against her skin as he moved to her ear, then her neck, his breath warm against her ear. "Tell me what you want," he whispered.

She could do nothing, say nothing. She was under his total control, fire burning in her core and getting stoked with each touch. "Please," she repeated, this time her inflection had changed from that of a frightened woman begging to be covered to that of a wanton woman, pleading for release. 

He brought his other hand up and lightly smacked her hip before reaching between her legs, sliding one lithe finger into her. "Mmmm, already so wet for me," he groaned as his thumb traced her tenderness. "I wonder how far I can take you before you beg me." Slowly, methodically, he worked in tandem with his hands, one inside, crooking down to hit her most sensitive spot, the other just barely circling the tenuous bundle of nerves that twitched for his attention. 

She felt like a watch spring being wound too tightly, waiting for the tension to become too much, to explode and lose herself, but the moment never came. He only kept up his maddening pace, stoking the fires inside her, watching her react with equal parts lust and desire, all for his own amusement, until finally, she had too much. She reached between her own legs and attempted to join in, only to be rebuffed. He pulled himself from her and snapped his fingers, binding her hands above her head. She was covered by a thin sheen of sweat that sparkled in the low light. "Please," she rasped. "Please."

"What would you like me to do?" he asked. He made his own breeches disappear and pressed his cock into her sex, coming just short of entering her. "Is it this you are looking for?"

Erika nodded her head. "Fuck me, please," she whimpered.

A dark chuckle rumbled in his throat as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, spinning her to face him once again. "I need to hear that again, this time so I can see your sincerity."

Her face was contorted by her need. Her head lolled back but she snapped forward and her eyes locked on his. "I need you," she said, then smiled seductively. "Fuck me, Loki, please." 

Loki licked his lip and considered her, watching the way her breath had shallowed, the way her nipples, hardened, pointed at him, enticing him, the way her sex glimmered with just a hint of her wet excitement. He moved face to face with her, reached his hands around and grabbed her legs, pulling them up and around his hips so she was supported only by the ropes that bound her wrists and him. His cock was at her entrance and she could feel it twitch with excitement. "Say my name," he growled in her ear.

"Loki," she breathed. 

He kissed her hard, his tongue demanding entrance to her mouth as he pulled her onto him, sheathing himself with her wet heat, impaling her from both ends. He held her ass and lifted her just slightly before dropping her back onto himself. 

She moaned at the sensation, first of being filled by him, by the delicious stretch as she adjusted to his girth, then by the movement he made once inside. He gyrated into her, grinding his hips as though he meant to split her in half. Once his mouth moved down to her neck, she arched her back, pushing into him, her own hips rising to meet his, flexing against him, feeling his shaft against her, inside her. 

It was all too much. His teasing her had incited such heat in her that before long, she was pumping against him, her keening reaching fever pitch. She felt like every molecule inside her would combust. "Oh, God," she groaned in her lust. "Oh, Loki!" 

He pushed into her harder. "I want you to scream my name," he whispered, nipping at her earlobe.

"Fuck!" she yelped. And then she fell, her entire being dropped into a precipice of desire, waves washing over her as her body submitted to the paroxysms of pleasure. "Loki!" she screamed. "Loki!"

Holding her close as she succumbed to him, he lapped at the sweat along her neck, nibbled at the vein. He could feel her walls close around him, throttle him, but tried to distance himself just enough to stave off his own release. He wanted to hear her scream even louder. As soon as her first release had subsided, he pulled himself from her and let her hands free. Erika laid back, heaving against the duvet, completely out of breath. Her eyes were closed and her face a masque of satisfaction. He waited until her breath slowed before covering her with himself, thrusting into her once again. She let out a deep breath in one long groan before reaching around him, fingers kneading against his hips. "Fuck me hard," she chuckled in his ear.

Loki reached his hands behind her neck, balancing above her on his elbows, watching her with each thrust. "Open your eyes, pet," he purred.

Erika obeyed and saw him watching. She smiled softly, letting everything flow, until she was once again in the throes of her orgasm. "Oh," she moaned, her voice getting louder with each thrust, "Loki!"

Her face in the heat, her eyes upon him, the feeling of her around him, was almost too much. Loki felt himself begin to lose control, but he gave in, rutting into her like a feral animal, grunting with abandon as he pushed beyond himself and felt his own release hot inside her. He kept going until he was sated, until he felt their passion mingled as it began to puddle beneath her. "Now, you are mine," he whispered tenderly. "I've claimed you. I will love you. I will protect you." He slid himself from her and laid down on the bed next to her. "You are mine."

"Okay, my king," Erika said sleepily. She snuggled into him as he flicked his fingers one last time, covering them with a soft, warm blanket, and then turned out the lights.


End file.
